The life force of brotherhood
Is ensnared by indigenous strain
And strangled by strife of tradition
Man is become enemy to his kin
Existence becomes distressed
And its hues, spoiled and soiled
By the blemishes of bloodletting
The black streaks of godly fervor
A legacy of clashing cultures
And merchandise of dogmatic hatred
Will enough blood ever be shed;
To fill up the gourds of ethnocentricism?
Satisfy the palate of righteous evil?
And irrigate the farmlands of dogma?
What if we live in love?
We are on this plane
Mere occupiers on rented land
Wax candles soon to melt
Burning wick, soon to burn out
Palaces soon to disintegrate…
Soon, we become one with the dust!
Written by: Lydia Abiodun
Edited by: Kukogho Iruesiri Samson
I am a member of the WRR editorial team.